


Won't Get Bitten Again

by Kalypso



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-04
Updated: 2004-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalypso/pseuds/Kalypso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why <i>did</i> Avon so often take Vila with him when they left the ship?  What happened the time he didn't?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won't Get Bitten Again

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Freedom City Birthday Party of 2004, when the joint themes were Shore Leave and Teleport Duty. It was later published in _Tales from Space City 9_ , edited by Helen Patrick. 
> 
> For those who like to be clear about timing, the events occur between _Trial_ and _Killer_.

Cally walked into the teleport bay, hefting the strap of her bag over one shoulder.

"Hullo, Vila."

Avon strolled after her. He glanced at the sullen figure hunched behind the controls.

"Goodbye, Vila." His face was expressionless, but Cally couldn't help thinking there was a faint smile somewhere behind it.

She sighed. Given Vila's track record at Space City, she'd thought it was quite a good thing he'd drawn first turn at teleport duty, but now she was confronted with the reality of a miserable crewmate it did seem a little hard.

"Remember," she said, "once you've done this, you're guaranteed shore leave the next four times we manage it."

" _If_ we manage it. We might all be dead by then."

Gan's ghost drifted by.

"Someone had to stay," said Avon, "and a random draw was the only way to manage it."

"If it _was_ random..."

"Surely, Vila, you're not suggesting that an amateur like myself could have pulled off a sleight of hand without an expert like _your_ self knowing it?"

"Anyway," Vila continued, "I don't see why Orac couldn't have handled the teleport on his own. OK, I do. Nobody knows whether your anti-alienator gadget really works."

"You don't trust my technological skills?"

"And if it _does_ work, it could be just as bad. Some alien ghoulie tries to take over Orac, bang, no one to operate the teleport..."

"...so Blake was probably right to want human back-up," said Cally, trying to suppress her irritation at this turn of conversation but feeling her sympathy ebb away...

...Vila was still muttering: "Avon's All-Purpose Solutions: heads you're dead, tails you're dead, lands on one edge you're probably dead..."

Almost imperceptibly, Avon was flushing. "The astonishing thing is that I'm trusting my life to _you_ , Vila. I'd have been much happier with Orac in charge."

They glared at each other.

"Where _are_ Blake and Jenna?" asked Cally hurriedly.

"Already down on Inwit," said Vila. "Couldn't wait to start having a good time."

"Speaking of which," murmured Avon, apparently calm again, "could you do the honours?"

"Goodbye, Cally," said Vila, as he reached for the controls, "I hope _you_ enjoy it."

Avon and Cally shimmered out of sight, as the familiar rippling sound spread through the bay.

 

"Waahwahwahwahwahwahwahwhump," remarked Vila.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, hullo, Orac. Almost forgot about you."

"It is possible either to forget, or to remember; I see no room for qualification. And you did not forget about me, you mentioned me to Avon."

"Humans are fuzzier than you are, Orac. There are lots of things I've almost forgotten. How do you feel about that, anyway?"

"'Feel' is an inappropriate anthropomorphisation of my functions. And what do you mean by 'that'?"

"Avon plotting to blow you up. And I thought you were his only friend."

"Another anthropomorphism!"

Vila had a vague feeling he knew the word, but was not going to ask Orac to remind him.

"But to answer the gist of your question, Avon's reasoning was flawed. My destruction would be an unnecessary and senseless waste."

Actually, Vila agreed with Avon's statement that it would be "a rather satisfying little explosion", as long as he was there to see it, but he had just enough tact not to say so. Whether Orac had feelings or not. He decided to change the subject back again.

"I meant the teleport," he explained. "Waahwahwahwahwahwahwhump. I always wondered what made that noise."

"The teleport system makes the noise, of course."

"Isn't it the sound of all our molecules waving about, then?"

"Certainly not. The actual process which you describe as teleportation is silent. The inventors of the system, however, discovered that organic humanoids felt more confidence in the process when it was accompanied by a noise, which created a sense of familiar routine..."

"You mean it's just a sound effect?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Then you could change the sound effect without affecting the way the teleport works?"

"It would be simple enough. But I fail to see what useful purpose such a change would serve."

Vila smiled. "Which just goes to show that, sometimes, human brains are one up on computers, after all..."

 

"So what are you planning to do?" asked Cally, as they strolled down the street. She glanced up to check the destinations listed on a row of transport stops, looking for the one that would take her out of town.

Avon looked evasive. "I thought... perhaps... I might go shopping."

"Shopping?" She was surprised. Jenna had explained the pleasures of shopping to her, but she had not been convinced. She certainly hadn't had Avon down as a shopper. It was almost tempting to go along and see... but no, there would be trouble if she was discovered shopping with Avon after she'd turned down the invitation to shop with Jenna. He was probably just looking for some computer component or other, anyway, and she had heard that the Agenbite of Inwit was really something approaching midsummer.

"Well, I hope you find what you want," she said. "I think this is my stop. I'll see you later!"

 

It was really unfair that he could feel so jumpy when he was having such a boring time, thought Vila.

He hadn't been making it up entirely when he said he was worried about Orac being got at again by aliens. He'd tried to persuade Zen to keep a look out, but had failed to come up with anything Zen would accept as a definition of "funny behaviour", and anyway, Orac could take over Zen, couldn't he, so it was probably a waste of time even trying.

And much as he'd enjoyed contemplating his little plan for the first few hours, the pleasure had soon been tempered by the realisation that he might not get a chance to carry it through. If Avon came back with somebody else... or if somebody else was in earshot at that particular moment... he could hardly do it when there was an actual mission in progress, and the next four shore leaves he wouldn't be in the right place.

The communicator chimed, and he jumped off his seat, heart thumping.

"Blake here. Everything OK up there?"

"Er, yes, fine, Blake. Really quiet. Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, thank you, Vila. Just wanted to check you were all right."

Check on me or check up on me, he wondered.

"Oh, yes, fine... you're not coming back up now, then?"

"No, there are some really good museums down here, and we've still got time so I want to see the one on Inwit's pre-Federation history."

"OK, right, don't do anything I wouldn't..."

A chuckle.

"I'm not sure whether that's a limitation or a licence, but I'll do my best. Goodbye, Vila."

He was gone. Vila settled back to continue his vigil, and finally dozed off.

 

"Avon! I didn't expect to see you here!"

He started, and turned to see Jenna carrying several brightly-coloured bags.

"Oh... ah... well, I suppose it's no surprise _you're_ at home in this district."

"Well, I've done the biggest boutiques, they're round the corner," she said, peering at a nearby shop window. It was displaying an impressive variety of flashing lights, but nothing she actually thought she could wear. "I just came down here to check I wasn't missing anything."

"Don't think so. I haven't spotted much in your style."

Jenna had always thought he was a little vain, but smiled at the thought of Avon setting himself up as her fashion adviser. "Anything that suited you?"

"Nothing that compared favourably with the Liberator's clothes room."

There was something slightly cryptic about his manner, but she had better things to do than flattering his self-importance by pursuing the mystery.

"OK, well, see you back on the ship, then..." she said as she headed onwards.

 

There was a chiming sound going on somewhere by Vila's left ear. He came to rather suddenly, and slammed the communicator button.

"Hullo!"

"Asleep again, Vila?" enquired a smoothly insulting voice.

"No... of course not, Avon," he said. "I was just, er, retying my shoelace."

"I'm glad to know that you've got your priorities sorted. I'm ready to come up now."

"Ah, right. Is Cally with you?"

"No, she was heading for the coast when I last saw her. It's just me. Anyone else back yet?"

"You're the first." A grin spread across Vila's face. "Just a minute, Avon, I've got to do the other shoe, then I'll fetch you." He leaned over the desk, and whispered "Ready, Orac?"

 

Avon readied himself and his purchases. Finding a darkness-emitter on a backwoods planet like Inwit had been an unexpected piece of luck. His right thumb was on its button - he would press it as soon as he heard Vila say "now". Then, as his surroundings began to swim before his eyes, he would start the strobe lights with his other hand. He had heard Vila describe the alien takeover of the Liberator in such interminable detail that he had a pretty good idea of how to recreate the effects; if there were any small differences, well, it didn't have to be the exactly the same dark-universe invader, did it? He'd got his warning ready to shout out: "Alien intruder! Get clear of Orac before it explodes!" Then he'd wait just long enough to be sure that the wretch who'd doubted his competence was a gibbering wreck before he'd switch the whole thing off, drawl "Oh, sorry, Vila, that seems to have been a false alarm" and stroll away.

His bracelet chimed.

"OK, ready for you now, Avon..."

 

A loud, irregular rattling noise punctuated by ear-splitting screeches started up, and a fraction of a second later the teleport bay was plunged into darkness. Then flashes of red alternating with a cold blue began to pulse through the room, as Vila leapt to his feet, trying to see his crewmate, but he was dazzled, he could see nothing, and at that moment it suddenly hit him -

Orac was lying! Of course the sound of the teleport wasn't a tacked-on effect, it was an integral part of the process, and changing it had made the whole system break down! Orac had tricked him into doing it in order to get rid of Avon for threatening to blow him up, and he had fallen for it! _He'd killed Avon!_ He swung round, remorse turning to rage, and struck out at his fellow-conspirator...

 

Avon reeled in confusion. What the hell was that ghastly noise? None of the equipment he'd got could be making it, but what else could have caused it? Damn everything, that fool had panicked too soon, and hit a wrong button or something, and that had created a teleport malfunction and he was going to die! He heard a scream, for a moment thought it was his own voice, then somehow realised it was Vila's, so he was still in the teleport bay, no time to lose, he hurled himself across the room, colliding with something bulky, hitting his head on the corner of something hard, gasping for breath...

 

Cally breathed in contentedly. The Agenbite had lived up to all expectations. She was so glad she had come out here - the sea air, the subtle changes of light, the chance to walk on turf that sprang soft beneath her feet, so unlike the hard metallic floors of spacecraft or the concrete bases they usually visited. Even the travelling had been interesting - watching her fellow passengers, imagining the everyday details of ordinary lives far removed from the dangers she had come to regard as normal. But if she rode back into town she would be late returning to the ship, so she might as well teleport straight up from here. Maybe Vila would be pleased to have a little company sooner than he had expected.

She pressed the communicator button. "Hullo, Vila?"

"Hullo." He sounded uncharacteristically terse.

"I've decided to come back now, can you bring me up?"

"OK."

Cally took one more breath of fresh air, and then saw the shores of Inwit melt away and the walls of the teleport bay replace them, to a familiar shimmering sound.

"Oh, you're back already, Avon..."

He was sitting by the teleport desk, fiddling with something on top of Orac. Vila was watching, and clutching a glass of soma. Neither seemed very interested in acknowledging her return.

"Is everything all right?"

Avon finally glanced up. Did he have a black eye? Was that why he'd come back early?

"It's fine. There was a slight accident that damaged Orac's casing. Nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" protested an indignant voice. "I could have..."

Avon snatched Orac's key and stuck it in his pocket.

"Nothing serious," he repeated.

"Ah... so did you buy anything interesting?"

"Not really."

"And you were OK up here, Vila?"

He looked up lethargically. He probably shouldn't have been drinking on teleport duty, but she supposed with Avon there it didn't really matter.

"Yeah."

She sighed. They were clearly not going to give anything away, so she might as well go back to her cabin and change. Now she was back in the ship's warm environment, she was beginning to feel the sweat and the dust. She headed for the corridor.

"Cally?"

"Yes, Avon?"

"I've been thinking. In future, I would prefer Vila to accompany me when I leave the ship."

"For shore leave?"

"For anything."

"Oh! Well, that's... nice. _I_ don't have a problem with it, anyway, I suppose you'd better mention it to Blake..."

"I'll tell him. I think it might be... better. For both of us."

"I... er... see." No, she didn't. "What do you think, Vila?"

He was staring back at the empty teleport bay. "Yes," he muttered eventually. "I'd feel safer... sticking with Avon." And he suddenly drained his glass with a flourish, and began to giggle uncontrollably.

_Humans_ , thought Cally, as she left them. She'd never understand their idea of a joke.


End file.
